


The Flour Follies

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Food Fight, Implied Smut, Innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 23:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20321011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: When you are left behind from the latest Avengers mission, you turn to cooking to ease your anxieties, but the God of Mischief can’t help but get in the way.





	The Flour Follies

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a writing challenge on Tumblr, and I didn't see why I couldn't post it on here, too! It's just a very short one shot of fluffy goodness with soft!Loki.
> 
> My prompt was: “You can’t be mean, because I cook the food… and I could technically poison you.”

“Ow! God that hurt!”

It was oddly quiet in the Compound, despite your cursing. The majority of the team had left on a mission, leaving you and Loki behind. Untested and untrusted, both of you. You weren’t ‘ready’ for it yet, and Loki hadn’t fully proven himself to be trustworthy in perilous situations. He probably never would, even though he had been living here for almost a year without incident. Well, _serious_ incident. 

One can’t fault the God of Mischief for pulling a few harmless pranks - although his definition of harmless and that of everyone else may differ slightly. The time that he switched out the dummy training weapons for real ones hadn’t caused any harm, but that was only because Nat had seen the glint of sharpened steel just before she embedded it in Sam’s side.

You absolutely hated it when they left you behind. You’d only been part of the team for a few months, but you were still itching to go out and help your coworkers - and let’s be honest, friends - take on the big bad guys. Staying behind just made you anxious. It wasn’t productive to just sit around and wait for them to return, turning over more and more gruesome scenarios in your mind for the myriad of ways that they could get injured.

One thing that always worked to keep your mind and body busy was cooking. It was hard to consider gruesome ends to the lives of your friends when you had to keep the exact steps or measurements of a recipe at the forefront of your thoughts. Plus, everybody liked to come home from a long day of work to delicious food waiting for them, and it was a small thrill to have actual Superheroes compliment your cooking. So, while they sped away to fight crime or save the world or something else equally heroic, you toiled in the kitchen, intent on vanquishing their hunger as effectively as they did their enemies.

Well, judging by your cursing, it was a little less effective.

You pulled your fingertip into your mouth, giving the slow cooker a glare for having the gall to burn you. With your free hand, you, carefully, layered in the roast you had purchased, along with plenty of potatoes and carrots around and on top of it.

“You summoned me?” A velvety voice that you knew all too well called from behind you.

Pulling your finger from your mouth, you rolled your eyes and poured the broth that had been waiting beside the slow cooker inside of it. “You are not the only god, Loki.”

“But I’m the only one that matters.” You could practically hear the arrogant smirk that accompanied the words.

“What are you doing?” he asked, silently coming up beside you, peering at your work. He wouldn’t see much, as you’d already put on the lid and that had fogged up considerably, but he could still pretend that he was looking at something.

“Making food, smart one,” you explained bluntly, rolling your eyes.

Suddenly two arms clasped the counter on either side of you, boxing you in. You turned around and crossed your arms over your chest, an impressive feat considering how close he was to you.

“You know better than to insult me, mortal,” he rumbled, voice deep as he glared down at you.

“Oh shove off, Loki. I gotta make cookies.” You uncrossed your arms to push on his chest lightly, knowing that putting any force behind the gesture was useless. Super strength was not one of your abilities, so the only way to get him to back off was of his own volition.

He did his best to look menacing, but the predatory gleam in his eyes was lessened by the uptick of the corners of his lips. “We are all alone on this floor. I could do whatever I wished with you and no one would be any wiser. Your powers are no match for mine.”

“Whatever you wished with me?” You winked, shimmying your shoulders in an overdramatic seductive manner. 

With the quirk of your brow, you accepted his unspoken challenge and ducked underneath his arms faster than he could move them to compensate. You darted to the fridge before turning to stick your tongue at him. He was fast, but you were faster. “You were saying?”

He stalked toward you, head tilted forward and emerald eyes watching you from beneath sooty lashes, but you slipped behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. Were you being threatening? I’ll stand still.”

Loki’s hand reached out to snag your wrist as he whipped around, firm enough to hold you to the spot but not enough to bruise. “You are playing with fire, Y/N.”

You just smiled innocently up at him. In all the time you’ve spent here and interacted with Loki, he had made countless threats against you. It wasn’t a new vocation for him. But he had never acted upon any of them, and you firmly believed that he never would. No matter how much you pushed his buttons. And, _oh_, his buttons were fun to push. 

“Oh, I thought I was playing with a god. My mistake.” Not your best line, but it earned you the tightening of the skin around his eyes nonetheless.

“Do not disrespect me. You will regret it,” he threatened, towering over you, his nose inches away from yours as he tried to use your significant height difference to his advantage.

You didn’t cower, instead choosing to puff out your chest and return his sinister expression. “You can’t be mean, because I cook the food… and I could technically poison you.”

He tilted his head to the side, an arrogant smirk spreading across his pale, elegant features as he released you. “Your Midgardian poisons would do nothing to me.”

You went to the fridge and pulled out butter and eggs, setting them carefully on the nearest counter. You felt his eyes on you as you went to grab the flour from the pantry, and with your back to him, you quickly dipped your hand into the bag to grab a small handful of the fine powder. “Wanna find out?”

He hissed your name in warning and you just knew that he was coming up behind you. So predictable. When his long fingers clasped over your hip and flipped you around to face him, you didn’t resist the movement and used the momentum to take your handful of flour and slap it onto the smooth, soft material of his black button-down shirt.

His face contorted in shock, his jaw dropping and eyes wide. You burst out into laughter. It was too rich to see the pretentious god covered in flour, his typical black wardrobe highlighting the mess too perfectly.

“Oops!”

An impish smile tugged on his lips, and his eyes flicked behind you. Before you could consider the possible reasons for the mischief glinting in his gaze, the entire bag of flour was dumped onto your head, thanks to his magic. You sputtered in his satisfied face. After a stunned moment, the absurdity of the two of you standing there covered in flour bubbled up from within you and you gave in to it, laughing boisterously. Head thrown back, mouth wide open, eyes closed, and absolutely covered in flour you were sure that you looked like some wild thing, but you didn’t care. 

“Serves you right, wicked woman,” he teased, circling his arms around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest.

You ruffled your hands through your hair, sending flour flying over the both of you. Flour dusted both of you more thoroughly for your efforts. It clung to his sharp jawline and lightened his dark eyebrows and hair. The effect was almost ghostly when partnered with the lightness of his skin. But the warmth in his eyes still sent your heart skittering as he gazed down at you as your laughter died down. That look, of pure happiness and adoration, was for you alone.

It was difficult to manage when he was so adorably disheveled - he’d have a fit if he knew you thought that about him - but you looked up to him with a false look of frustration on your face. You knew he didn’t buy it, you couldn’t stop the smile that parted your white-powdered lips as you rested your hands on his chest, but it was still fun to pretend. “Now how am I supposed to make cookies?”

He dipped his head to capture your lips in his, tasting of flour and coffee, his soft lips working against yours with practiced motions that you had perfected over the last few weeks. His fingers rubbed against your back pleasantly, making sure to send warm tingles through you and steal your breath away.

Having enthusiastically silenced you, he pulled away and smiled at your dazed expression as his nose nudged yours. “Forget about the cookies, pet.”

His insistence reminded you of your own mission, and you actually pouted. Somehow still able to focus on your task despite the handsome man gazing down at you, you thumped your hands against his chest lightly. Small white puffs of flour scattered into the air with each light hit. “But I promised Sam I’d make him my famous chocolate chip cookies. They’re irresistible.”

His hands tugged on your hips until they met his, and he brushed his lips along the soft skin of your neck. “I can think of another thing that’s irresistible.”

“You’re incorrigible,” you murmured, pushing against his chest lightly. “But I really need to get these made, so if you could unhand me…”

He relented with a heavy sigh, dropping his head to your shoulder. “Love.”

“Order more flour for delivery, and then we’ll talk,” you haggled, running your floured hands through his black hair, making an absolute mess of it.

A pleased hum vibrated out from his chest, and he lifted his head to press a kiss to your forehead, pulling away with a frown from the bitter taste of the raw flour on your skin. “You bargain with me?”

“Yup,” you replied, your lips popping the last syllable loudly between the two of you. You slipped out of his hold to gather the rest of the ingredients that you could find, leaving a cloud of flour in your wake.

When you finally stopped moving about, stationed in front of the stand mixer with the ingredients laid out before you, you turned your head to watch Loki over your shoulder with a quirked brow and a small smile on your lips.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., order more flour for the accursed cookies,” he commanded, staring at you as if you were a glass of water and he was stranded in the desert.

Your laughter echoed throughout the empty room as he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you away from the disaster of a kitchen.

“I believe that a shower is in order. Wouldn’t want to have errant flour falling into the recipe and ruin the whole batch of _irresistible_ cookies.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


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